


we're on each other's team

by defcontwo



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:37:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defcontwo/pseuds/defcontwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A couple sheets of paper equals family. It doesn't make sense to her, not really. That's not how families are made." Tim and Cass in Blüdhaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're on each other's team

She settles on the bench, cool wood beneath her, kicking her feet against the dirty pavement. It's early in the morning but people are still out, running to work or to school or whatever it is that most Blüdhaven citizens get up to.

Crime, mostly. But also tea.

Cass waits. It's been a while since she's seen him. And the last time they saw each other was -- something not good, something that itches. Uneasy, might be the word. He would know. He always has answers to questions like this.

It was a late night. Too many busts. Her eyes are drooping and she stuffs her hands into her hoodie's front pocket, fingers stiff part from the early morning wind and part from all the punches she threw the night before.

"Cass?"

Tim is pale, paler than usual, dark circles under his eyes and a dark red hoodie pulled up over his head. They match, she thinks. Red, blood red, for him and sunshine yellow for her. Like Robin.

Well. Almost like Robin.

(If Steph were here, she thinks, Steph could wear that bright, bright green and then it would be right. And then they would be right.

But, well).

"Hi, Tim. Do you want to get some tea?"

Tim huffs a laugh, pushing back his hoodie to drag a hand through his messy hair. "I think it's going to be three shots of espresso for me. Let's go."

He makes for the door to Brenda's cafe, holding it open for her. She ducks her head, smiles, never quite knows what to do in these situations. She knows that this is one of those things she'll never understand, customs that she didn't grow up with.

Boys open doors for girls but it's a ridiculous thing when the girl can kill the boy with her bare hands if she wanted to.

Even if she didn't want to. Even if she wasn't really trying.

Cass flexes her fingers subconsciously, tucked as they are into her front pocket and shudders in spite of herself.

An ugly thought. She wishes she could unthink it.

"Cold?" Tim asks. "The ventilation in my place is terrible, I've been piling the blankets on all month. I could barely sleep."

Cass shakes her head. "No, I'm fine."

Brenda looks up from the register as Cass and Tim walk up, a broad grin on her face that turns into something sly as she eyes up Tim. Oh no.

Brenda looks between Cass and Tim, her left eyebrow raised. "Isn't he a little young for this?"

Tim, who had been busily staring up at the menu, starts. "What?"

"She's asking if you're paying me for sex," Cass says baldly.

Tim gapes, mouth open and eyes widening. It makes his under-eye circles more noticeable. Comical but also sad. He should laugh more. He needs a Brenda.

"What?"

"He's my little brother," Cass says, grinning at the way Brenda flushes, mouth opening to stammer an apology for her joke. "And he'll have...?"

"Uh, a red eye. I'll, uh, go find us a seat?" Tim says, looking between her and Brenda before making a face that means he's decided he just doesn't want to know. Not yet, not before he's even had his coffee.

"Sorry," Brenda says.

Cass shrugs. "Don't be. The shock is good for him."

Brenda chuckles. "Sheltered little brother, huh?"

"Something like that. Um. I'd like to try something new?"

Brenda nods, turning around to face the tea menu. "Have you ever had chai?"

Cass turns the word around in her mind, tries to make the shape of it with her mouth. It doesn't sound familiar. "No. I'll try that."

"You got it, kiddo."

Cass leans against the counter, watching Brenda work. It's a specialized routine, similar to the fight, similar to going through the motions. Cass sees it in the swift way Brenda moves from packing in the espresso to brewing the tea to reaching for the coffee pot. A to B to C. Soothing to watch.

"All set, Cass," Brenda says. She sets the two cups on the counter and Cass picks them up, relishes the warmth beneath her hands. It feels like it could seep into her very bones.

Tim found a table by the window, the morning sun shining right onto them. Cass sits down, slides his coffee over to him. He takes a deep sip, settles back into his chair and closes his eyes.

Cass leans over and pokes him in the arm. "Don't fall asleep."

Tim laughs. "I'm not sleeping, I'm resting."

Same thing.

She lets him have the silence though. She likes the quiet, likes the fact that he's not asking her any questions. She's not sure if she'd have the answers. Her life has changed in so many ways lately that she doesn't fully understand.

Mostly for the better, too. She's still not sure what to do with that. She thinks Steph would have known. Steph would have known how to put this into words. She always did.

"How've you been?" Tim asks at last. He's fiddling with the cap on top of his coffee. Nervous habit. He remembers their last conversation.

Cass feels her lips upturn in a smile. "Good. Actually, yes. Good."

"Yeah?"

"I went dancing."

In an outfit I made myself, in makeup I put on myself, in a world that I've built for myself. Things she never even thought to ask for because she didn't know it was possible for her to have them.

"I, uh. Good? That's good. Did you have fun?"

"Fun? Yeah -- yeah, I really did."

"Good."

Cass huffs. "Stop saying that."

Tim cracks a smile. "I will when you will."

Cass rolls her eyes at him pointedly.

"So, why exactly does the woman who runs this place think you're a sex worker?"

Cass lifts a shoulder in half a shrug. "Late nights. No better explanation. I tried to tell her she's wrong but I don't think she believes me."

"Clearly," Tim says dryly, shaking his head. "I'll bet Alfred coming around to show you into your brand new house didn't exactly help much."

"No, not really," Cass says.

Tim understands more to the picture than she does but she's able to sketch around the edges, fill in the blanks for herself -- she gets what happened there even if it sounds ridiculous. 

"You know, you -- you should come by more often," Tim says, fingers picking at the cardboard edge of his coffee cup. "Uh. I have that cereal you like. And it would -- it would be nice, I guess. If you wanted to."

"Is that what...is that what brothers and sisters do? Eat each other's food?"

It's what they are now, Alfred explained. A couple sheets of paper equals family. It doesn't make sense to her, not really. That's not how families are made.

"Clearly you've never had Dick Grayson invade your kitchen," Tim says. He makes a face, like recalling a memory. A happy one, probably. Memories of Dick usually are.

"Okay," Cass says. "I'll come by more."

"Good," Tim says and doesn't fight it when she leans over and punches him in the arm lightly.

Tim drains his coffee, setting it down on the table with a soft clatter. "Do I really look like I'd have to pay for sex?"

Cass looks at him square in the eye, forcing her face blank. "Yes."

She holds his gaze for a few seconds but it's not necessary because he cracks before she does, and then he's laughing, his whole body shaking with it and she is too, the pair of them drawing eyes all across the coffee shop as they laugh so loudly the whole cafe echoes with it.

This is better, she thinks, than a couple sheets of paper.


End file.
